Skepticism in Grey
by Lainiekins
Summary: What if Narcissa disappeared at the end of Draco’s fifth year? With Lucius in Azkaban, who is the nearest family relative for Draco to stay with for the summer?
1. Skepticism in Grey

**Title**: Skepticism in Grey 

**Synopsis: **What if Narcissa disappeared at the end of Draco's fifth year? With Lucius in Azkaban, who is the nearest family relative for Draco to stay with for the summer? 

**Spoilers**: Books 1-5 respectively 

**Pairing**: Hint of a future D/G, but mostly a story about a boy finding his TRUE family. Not exactly as corny as it sounds, but this fic could be aired on Lifetime, so be warned XD

---

It appeared that Draco Malfoy would remain a slug forever.

Not that he minded, in his current slug form. This was the third time in his life he had been transfigured into an animal against his will-at least this time the creature was slightly more sinister than a rabbit or a bouncing ferret. A slow thinking creature, this slug, but impervious to the sharp kicks the occasional students was delivering to his body. Physically impervious, at any rate-Draco was careful to memorize exactly who was maiming his body while he was helpless. His father… when he got out of Azkaban… was going to make these students pay.

_Will he? _Draco wondered as a giant shadow loomed over him. He swiveled his left eye stalk up to behold the monstrous form of Edith Goyle. Unlike the measly kicks the soft students had delivered to his thick, slimy hide, Edith Goyle's blotchy hand smacking his eye stalk stung like a hard slap on the rump, or a painful kick to the solar plexus.

"Stupid boy!" The woman thundered, the luggage rack shaking worse than a 8.0 earthquake.

_Quiet woman or the screws holding this second hand rack will shake out!_ Draco slowly yelled, but the only audible sound was a glurg-gulp of three slimy bubbles escaping his mouth. Or at least the orifice that Draco assumed was his mouth.

For a half second, Draco was sure the giant of a woman had heard him, for the room was eerily quiet. _Either that, or she must have realized there were three slugs in here, and only one of them was her precious Goyle._

But the hot, greasy hand on his back sent all sense of reason out of the slimy lump of flesh Draco had become. _No! Get your hands off me you oaf of a woman! I do not appreciate being fondled by an ugly fat old woman! When my father hears of this…!_

The greasy hand moved down his back, sending chills of revulsion slowly up and down his slimy form. 

_Oh Merlin, I promise I'll never have another naughty thought about the Gryffindor Quidditch girls if you just get this woman off me!_

Then, the pudgy fingers dug into his skin and jerked him over onto his belly. Draco let out a terrified squeal, praying someone would hear him. 

_I'm too rich to be violated like this! Someone help me!_

The hand did not begin to caress his slimy body, but was instead sifting through his robes. _Ok, maybe 'rich' was not the right word-_Draco began, but trailed off when the hand left his body. Draco managed to twist his right eye stalk far enough over to see Goyle's mother checking the robes of the slug to his right.

_Ah, smarter than she appears to be. No wonder my mother invites her for Bridge once a month. _Draco wondered where his own mother was-surely she would enter the train at any moment, furious that her son had been hexed by mere students again. He winced, knowing she would launch into a heavily insult ladened harangue, insulting him from his imperfect toes on up to his 'greasy' hair and obvious lack of wit. 

But at least she was family, Draco thought to himself as he watched Edith Goyle slowly reverse the process that had turned her giant oaf of a son into a giant slug of a boy. He felt rather than heard footsteps at the entrance, but was unable to crane his left eye stock back to see his mother as it was being crushed under the weight of his slug-head.

He braced himself for the yelling that was sure to come, and yet never did. He saw Edith motion towards the right, but no hands grasped his form. No magic reversed his transfigured self back to its glorious former shape. No mother welcomed her son home.

_Well, my mother was late for the first time in her life. _Draco reasoned, trying not to let the fact that his 'goons' were being saved while he, the criminal mastermind, was stuck in slug form hanging precariously on a swaying luggage rack. _Unfair, but maybe the two lovely ladies will reset me back and I can leave in dignity…_

"No mum, we's only done it 'cause Malfoy. He say we's gonna do it, and we'd gonna do it like you's told us's to's." He caught the grating words that Crabbe wheezed out. Crabbe was the one who butchered grammar with extra s's, so his speaking style was unmistakable against the silence of the room.

_Oh, get over yourselves! You can tell your mummy dearest the truth-after you get me out of here! You daft blob of fat! I can't even call you my goon any more!_ Draco yelled, twisting his right eye stock to see the cold glare Edith Goyle sent her way. He watched, absolutely shocked, as Goyle's mother turned around and lead her son away without a word.

_Well, I don't need Goyle or Crabbe's mums to take pity on me. My mother will be here any minute! She will! _He mentally yelled as he felt Crabbe and his mother stomp out of the compartment as well.

The train fell silent, and Draco began to worry. Would he be stuck a slug forever? What would happen if his mother was unable to get to the train station? Would the train return to Hogwarts, and he be stuck on it to slowly starve to death?

_Maybe I can try and eat my own slime. _He thought in total disgust but unable to fathom what to do in this situation. _If only that stupid group of Auror misfits had minded their own business and let me trounce that loser Potter, this would never have happened. I would be at home in the Manor lounging about under the enchanted umbrellas, careful to keep the glare from burning my skin a common brown…_

There was a clang at the doorway, followed by a light set of footsteps. _Ah, there she is. I knew she would come for me, of course. No hysteria on my part. _He thought, settling his mass as he attempted a sneer on his face. 

Only, his present slime form lacked any real muscle control, and the only movement that happened was a large slimy bubble to be released from the dark cavern of his mouth.

_Yes, mum, this slime creature is your son-now transfigure me back to a human form! _Draco commanded, but the footsteps had ceased.

Incensed that his mother would be staring at him but not speaking, Draco craned his eye stalk around to see a short woman staring at him in shock. 

_I doubt anyone would be shocked to see a slug if they had that atrocious pink color of hair. Although, the color does match that Weird Sister's shirt, but there is no saving those jeans. Muggle wear, and the below the poverty line variety I'd guess. Wonder what SHE'S doing here. _

"Oh, you poor dear." The woman let out, her eyes darkening from a pale gray to a warm brown.

_Wait… the only metamorphmagus I know is…_

Oh great, his second cousin was here to save him. As if matters could only get any worse-his mother had spoken at length about the clumsy Auror girl, bemoaning the fact that the girl's mother, Andromeda, had abandoned their family to marry a-

"Oh, you are a Slytherin. I guess you deserved the blast then… but why hasn't any one picked you up?" The girl leaned closer to stare at him, examining him for some trace of an identity.

_Of course I'm a Slytherin, you dolt. _Draco blasted in his mind, wishing he could really glare at his cousin. _Why did YOU have to be here? My mother will yell at you when she comes here! Yell at you!! And you won't like it!_

"Well, I guess I'll just have to reverse whatever hex was placed on you and help you find your parents. Although, you can't be too smart of a student, because you forgot the first rule in dueling-" 

_Cheat?_

"-duck." With that, the odd woman Draco had the displeasure to call family, but only by blood, fumbled with her wand and began the slow task of revealing himself in human form.

When Draco could actually hear the sharp inhalation of shock that announced that his cousin had recognized him, Draco had decided that he was enough of himself to finish the job without her mettlesome and mediocre skills. 

He struggled to get out of the luggage rack, but too much of the slug remained inside him. He opened his mouth to yell at the girl, but only bubbles-slightly less slimy then before-fell out.

"Well, Draco, it seems like your nastiness has gotten you transfigured into another animal. How many has it been? Three now?"

Draco only simmered in his rage. _I bet she's keeping me from being able to speak to her on purpose. Stupid woman._

"I thought as much. Can't say the slug was an improvement, but at least you got some color in your face. Anything was better than that zombie white shade you and Aunt Narcissa seem to prefer."

_Don't you dare insult my mother you wretched waste of magic. _Draco cursed, wriggling his body forward to try and lung at her for speaking as such. Dimly he remembered that a similar set of factors had resulted in him being turned into a cuddly white rabbit all those years before, but the only thing Draco could think about was destroying the woman who had insulted him… and his mother of course.

"Ah, the glare of death-I see that you haven't improved it in all those years. Have you found any girls your age who find it dashing?" The insufferable woman laughed, a pleasant sound without any distaste or false sincerity in it. 

_Just get me out of this form so I can go find my mother with some dignity. _Draco hissed, wishing he had the power of speech so he could blast the woman out of his way.

But she was tricky, that girl, and apparently WAS holding off on giving him back his powers of speech. He felt his legs split into two limbs and had finally had enough of this hanging in a rack-he scooted hard forward, his hands trying to find purchase in the slime covered metal. His swift motion sent the cheap luggage rack swinging, and another shriek escaped from his throat.

"A little impatient, Draco?" she said with a laugh, and leaned forward to hold out a hand.

He considered it for a moment, but decided that his revenge against her could wait-the swinging motion of the rack was making him nauseous. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, and suddenly Draco found himself standing on two shaky feet, his clothes covered in slime. 

"Thank you." He managed to grit out, and was surprised that the words had escaped his mouth with only a minor release of bubbling. 

She shrugged her shoulders and looked around the room. "Where's your mum, Draco? It isn't like her to be late…"

Unable to shout out an obscene word and dash off because SHE was still blocking his path, Draco could only return her shrug. "I have no idea." He said stiffly, reaching down to his knee to swipe off a patch of slime from his dark robes.

His cousin rolled her eyes and reached out to grab his arm, but he shielded away from her. "I'm not going to bite you Draco." She said in exasperation and grabbed his arm anyway, pulling him from the luggage room. "Go grab your trunk and we'll find your mum, alright?"

"But she-"

"Hates me?" She supplied with a laugh, shaking her hand and letting go of his arm. She looked down at her hand and winced at the slime that had transferred to her hand, but wiped the goo onto her patched jeans and shrugged again. "Well, we're family-we all hate each other, except for when there's Wills to be made and Eulogies to be read." 

Draco paused, considering her words. It was true… 

"What's the matter? Why did you stop?" She asked, staring at him in concern.

Draco couldn't remember the last time someone had stared at him in concern… at least concern for HIM. Umbridge had stared at him in concern for HERSELF a few times, but never for him, and his mother AND father had never in all his life stared at him in concern for anything. "Uh, my trunk is in that compartment." He managed to say, reaching out to open the door.

"Whatever you say kid." She said, scratching her spiked hair. She stared at him for another second then scrunched her face in a funny sort of way, and her hair slowly changed back to its natural silvery blonde color. 

"I am not a kid." Draco said indignantly, but reached in and grabbed his trunk without further questioning. He hadn't placed it in a luggage compartment because they had been full by the time he had reached the train-he had been planning his attack on Potter for a week now, and was incensed that it had failed.

He caught her rolling her eyes, and saw them as they changed back to a gray color he assumed was their original shade. Many people had said that Nymphadora Tonks had looked exactly like her Aunt Narcissa as a child, so she had probably had the same color of eyes as him mum to warrant such praise.

"Whatever you want, Draco." She said carelessly, turning to walk to the front of the train, leaving Draco to struggle to carry his huge trunk all to himself.

"You could have… cast a levitating… charm." Draco said between pants for air, but gritted his teeth and slowly pulled his way to the front of the train.

"Took you long enough." She said, reaching around to grab the other end of the trunk and begin to exit the train. Draco had to rush forward to keep up with her, wincing at the pain shooting through his arm. He hadn't carried anything this heavy in a while… probably had been years, in fact. 

"Where do you think Narcissa could be?" She asked after a moment, looking around the deserted platform. 

"I don't know… maybe at Diagon Alley? She usually picks up some robes there before coming to pick me up… with my father."

He saw her stiffen at the mention of his father. She should, she was an Auror, had helped put his father in PRISON. But he couldn't feel angry at her-she, unlike Potter, had been doing her job. Maybe it was his father's fault for-

_No, my father was set up! My father is not to blame! He's innocent! _Draco assured himself, nodding his head violently.

"Ok, so we'll head to the Alley then. I don't know about you, but I don't want to be carrying this trunk about London, so why don't we drop it off somewhere? I have a couple of friends who are just outside…"

Draco considered the situation. Either he could leave his precious belongings in the hands of strangers-more than likely MUDBLOODS, as those were the sort of folk his mother had said Nymphadora had befriended-or he could lug the heavy trunk all over London.

His muscles decided for him. 

"Ok." He muttered, trying to feel the will to add a little glowering to his words but feeling only sullen.

They passed through the border between the platform and the rest of the station without incident. The Muggles brushed past them, casting odd looks at his Wizard Robes and the fact he was covered in slime. _Stupid peons, thinking you own the world. Wait until my father…_

_Does what? Gets himself out of Azkaban and plays it safe for a few years? _Draco shook his head again, wondering what would really change at his house when his father returned. He knew Azkaban could change a person-his mother had told him all about her cousin, the criminal Sirius Black, who had finally met his fate the same night as his father had been incarcerated. 

"Where are your friends?" Draco finally asked, for the two had been wondering down the platform isle for a while. 

She nodded towards a corner. "Turn there." She said, and together they cleared the corner…

Draco stared, his nerveless fingers dropping his side of the trunk despite the groan of protest from his cousin. Wordlessly he stared in horror at the savage figure of a man in front of him, wearing a ridiculous hat but staring at him with that unnatural eye…

"Oh, OH! No, Draco, that's the REAL Moody!" Nymphadora shouted, dropping her end of the trunk to come around to his side. 

He tried to hold back the whimper, but all he could see was that unnatural eye, foretelling his ferret doom…

"Ah, Tonks, perhaps you can explain why you are accompanying a… _Malfoy_?" a familiar voice asked from behind the form of Mad-Eye Moody.

Draco turned his terrified eyes from the terror with one eye to the beast that had taught D.A.D.A. that one year. The one his father had worked hard to get kicked off the position. 

Lupin the werewolf; the one who had been friends with _Potter's_ parents of all people and was now standing next to the most feared man Draco had ever had the misfortune to meet… or at least see someone in the shape of.

"Oh Remus, this is Draco. He's my cousin and his mother seems to have forgotten … to pick him up."

He noticed the way the werewolf sized his cousin up and down and realized that he had called her by her surname. "Tonks?" He inquired, wondering why he had been so formal and yet she had not. Especially to a WEREWOLF.

Nymphadora turned towards him and smiled slowly. "Would you like being saddled with a name like Nymphadora? Be glad you were named after a constellation-- I got stuck with 'an insect phase' gift." 

He blinked at her. He was named after a constellation? He frowned, wondering if it was true, and exactly why he had been named as such. He had always thought he had been named Draco because it was a serpent-like creature, pre-ordaining his greatness in Slytherin. 

But… a constellation? A set of stars? That was incredibly weak! Couldn't be true!

"I guess not." He said slowly, looking down at his trunk.

She followed his gaze and laughed easily. "Hey, do you two think you can manage to look after Draco's trunk while we find his mother? My arm is hurting already, and it will look a little silly to be trudging around London with a trunk between us-"

"Even with Malfoy there covered with… what looks suspiciously like snail slime?" Lupin raised his eyebrows in amusement.

But that amusement was not shared with the boy COVERED in the slime. "It's slug Slime." Draco gritted out. "Snail slime is beneath me."

There was an unhealthy silence, until Moody whipped out his wand and preceded towards him. Draco yelped and took a large step backwards, tripping over his trunk. 

"I think I should be the one to un-slime the young Malfoy." Lupin said, holding Moody back with by placing his pale hand against the larger man's chest. "He did have that traumatic experience with your… pretender." 

"Eh, guess we know the clumsiness runs in the blood." Moody grunted, his one eye glittering at Draco in a way that made the boy even more uneasy.

Lupin scanned the area for Muggles and pulled out his one wand, swishing it around in the air as if to test it for some magical consistency. And then Lupin locked his eyes on Draco's and whispered a spell-

--and Draco felt his robes, skin, and very being cleansed of the slime. He had never felt cleaner in his life-he almost jumped up to hug the man, but remembered in time that the man wasn't a man, but a living animal trapped in a mortal's body. 

He ignored Nymphadora's helping hand, managing to get up off his trunk on his own, dusting imaginary specks from his robes. "Thank you." He directed stiffly to the werewolf, avoiding the eyes of everyone in the small group. 

When no one spoke or moved, he felt compelled to ask: "If we could find my mother?" 

Nymphadora nodded to her two friends, a half smirk on her face. "I'll take the kid to his mum and then meet you back… at the place, alright? I'll probably come by Floo and take the trunk back to him…"

He saw Lupin nod, and then felt his cousin's hand on his arm pulling him away.

Draco knew it would only be polite to say goodbye as he departed, but given the circumstances and the… people involved, Draco felt confident that he had done the correct thing by ignoring Lupin's soft farewell and Moody's hearty cheerio.

It was, after all, the Malfoy thing to do.

Draco sped up, trying to keep up with his long legged cousin. Although she was the same height as he was, her legs seemed to have twice his stride; making him feel horribly inadequate.

"So, how did it feel?" He caught her ask after they left the Train station behind them and headed towards Diagon Alley. 

"How does… what feel?" He asked between pants for air. He had done more exercise today then he had done all year-and that included Quidditch practices. Being a Seeker was easy because it required no muscle, after all.

"Becoming a slug! Was it horrible?" 

He was silent for a moment, and not only because he was trying to catch his breath. "No worse than the rabbit." He managed, trying to appear nonchalant.

He caught her shaking her head. "I am sorry about turning you into a rabbit at your birthday party, Draco, but you had made me mad when you insulted my father. I love my father every bit as much as you love yours, Draco. And despite… the fact that I do not agree with what your father… practices, I can understand how you feel about him."

"Oh?" Draco began, but was unable to raise enough anger to continue. She was family, after all-and at the moment she was the only family he had. After all, it wouldn't do to have her turn him into a rabbit again.

He shuddered. 

They had reached a cross walk, so both were able to pause to catch their breath. Nymphadora smiled at him, her hair still her natural silvery blonde color. "Your hair is sticking up at all angles-you should probably invest in a gel or mousse product." Draco let out before he could rethink his words.

But his cousin simply raised her eyebrows and pointed at his head. "You should speak." She said, her lips widening into a smile.

His eyes growing wide with horror, Draco reached up to find his hair in what could only be called total disarray. If his mother saw him like this, he'd never live to hear the end of it…

"Oh, it's not that bad! You look less of punk with your hair free-maybe you can attract more feminine attention, eh?" She said, nudging him in the side.

He stopped his attempts to smooth his hair back. "You really think so? Father said that women appreciate men with hair slicked back, because it indicated class-"

"Oh, it suits some men, but with your cheekbones you'd be better off with your hair in a freer style. Does it have any natural curl to it? I thought I remember your hair curling at the ends-"

"That was many years ago." Draco said simply as he began to pat down his hair again, wondering why he'd take the advice of a woman who alternated her hair color by the hour.

A muggle woman who was next to them looked from Nymphadora to him and smiled. "Taking your younger brother out on the town?" She asked, her voice thick with an accent Draco had never heard before.

Nymphadora laughed. "Oh, he's my cousin. He doesn't trust my judgment about his hairstyle-seems to think the slicked back style suits him more."

The woman scrunched up her nose. "Men with slicked back hair scream slime ball, if you ask me. Oh! A break in traffic!" The woman almost pranced out into the street, swinging her many bags around her in a strange windmill fashion.

"Oh, don't think all Muggles are that strange. That was a foreigner-not sure about the nationality, though. Odd accent… wonder if it's a form of an American one…" his cousin wondered, slowly moving out into the street.

Rolling his eyes, Draco followed suit, carefully making sure no Muggle automobiles would come crashing into him. He didn't trust Muggle technology, and automobiles frightened him even more than Moody did. His parents never walked about the Muggle streets and would probably disown him if they discovered him out and about, especially in such colorful company. 

The two walked through London's busy streets for another half an hour, not speaking a word to each other. Draco was actually enjoying himself-a few girls, even if they WERE Muggles, had whistled at him-something that had never happened in the Wizard World. Well, except for Pansy, but she did all sorts of strange things. But Muggles they were, and he had been careful to scowl at them despite the sudden want to show off his perfect body for them to gawk at.

Except he didn't have a perfect body, just a nice one-- when it wasn't covered in slime, that is, or sweating profusely, as it was now. He wondered how much farther the two would have to walk when he realized they were within sight of The Leaky Cauldron. 

The two entered the smoky inn that was crowded with people who could only be described as the usual cliental as well as a few of the students from Hogwarts and their parents. Draco ignored all of them, for there wasn't a Slytherin in the crowd and he rarely associated with non-slytherin. Instead he found himself being pulled towards the man he remembered owned the inn, a shady looking man named Tom.

"Hallo Tom!" His cousin greeted the owner heartily, but Tom's eyes were fixed on Draco.

"Is that… is that Mr. Malfoy's son?" The man managed to squeak, taking a step backwards. 

It seemed to Draco that all the conversation in the room ceased as everyone turned to stare at him. Inwardly Draco knew that there were still people looking at their food and other interesting things, but he allowed himself to fantasize that EVERYONE was staring at him.

He shrank back from the man, wondering why he was afraid of him, and not in a good way, like a Hufflepuff shrinking away from you in the hall was. It wasn't like Draco was going to send him the Killing Curse for giving him an odd look, after all.

Draco didn't really know HOW to perform a Killing Curse, but he'd never admit that to anyone, least of all someone who was afraid of him.

"Why yes, Tom, this is Draco! He's my cousin, you see, and we're trying to find him mother-"

Tom looked from Nymphadora to Draco, his eyes bulging out in a most unbecoming way. _I wonder if he's related to Pansy._ He wondered.

"Haven't you heard? Mrs. Malfoy… she disappeared today! Ministry came to her… your house today for questioning, and the woman was gone!"

Draco felt the world spinning around him. His mother… was gone? Without him?

The day had grown inexplicably worse, but the only thing running through his mind was: _At least no one remembered to bring any salt on the train._

**

**Authors Note**: 

Hallo every one! Hopefully the length of the first chapter hasn't frightened anyone away! And yes, this will be a far more updated fanfic than Delusions! Mostly because I'm still at loss as to how to handle Delusions after book five. XD. 

Grey will not feature too much romance (at least that's the plan), but will revolve around Draco having to grow up a bit. Not a real redemption story, because Draco hasn't done anything truly horrible yet to cause him to be needed to be redeemed. However, if seeing Draco in a moderately positive light is not for you, I'd recommend another fanfic, because he will be seen in a positive light as the story moves on. Well, a rather snarky positive light, but a positive light just the same.

As for Tonks… I've been itching to put Tonks in a story for ages now, but I hadn't had the chance until this idea popped into my head at 10pm on July 16th. Yes, this chapter is several months old but I waited until I was almost finished with chapter two before I uploaded it onto fanfiction.net. I'm currently working on a Neville-centric project which will consist of ten private investigating cases (and a lot of mischief), so look out for that project in March!

As for chapter two, I'm six pages into it and will probably post it in two weeks—but as I'm on vacation right now until late next week I'll probably have it posted sooner. MUA. 

~Lainie


	2. Underground Egesting

**Title**: Underground Egesting

**Synopsis**: Tonks and Draco retreat to Grimmauld Place via the Underground after failing to contact Narcissa but are distracted by a man named Dung and an evil Bird.

**Author's Quick Note**: Ack! Sorry about how late the chapter was, but the company that hosted my domain folded and I had to scrounge up enough money to find a new host. And then school hit-- but thankfully I got this out between studying breaks. 

---

"Narcissa Malfoy was more likely to have skedaddled off to a Beautician Stall this morning and simply forgot to return to the Malfoy Manor in time to greet the Ministry's officials. After all, my dear aunt is not known for her extraordinary memory." Nymphadora smoothly stated, her smile wide and genial, helping to soothe the more aggressive uproar around the bar of the Wizarding Pub. 

Draco remembered several occasions where his mother had recalled intimate details of chance acquaintances she had not seen in several years but wisely kept silent. He was old enough to recognize someone on a damage control mission-and intimately involved with the scandal enough to be in the good grace to keep his mouth shut. 

"Aye, the blonde ones always forget such things. Too much air up there." A man with hair greasy enough to be a relation of Snape let out with a hearty laugh, slapping Draco firmly on the back so hard Draco thought he could feel his insides rattle about. "You're lucky it's only the women folk who have that trouble."

"Ah-hem." Nymphadora cleared her throat loudly, but her bright eyes betrayed her stern features. "Not ALL females who are naturally blonde are _Bimbos_ you know." 

"Aye, hardly any are attractive." Another man let out a raunchy laugh, eyeing Draco's cousin a little too freely for Draco's liking.

_Wait a second… am I being protective of that mutant?! Well, being a Metamorphmagus isn't really being a mutant…_ He shuddered as he recalled the lecture of plant mutations in Herbology two years ago. Some of the resulting plants had resembled twisted human forms--far too close a likeness for Draco's liking.

With a jolly laugh Nymphadora swatted the man away and waved cheerfully at Tom before grabbing Draco by his shirt and tugging him out of the Leaky Cauldron and out into the sunlight again. It was extraordinarily hot in Diagon Alley, and Draco could practically feel his skin boiling on his bones. He could just picture the fine flesh melting-

"You have a morbid look on your face, cousin." Nymphadora said with a laugh, nudging him towards the sidewalk once again. 

"Just thinking about how hot it is," Draco replied truthfully, although he was a little confused as to why they were back outside. "Didn't we leave there a little early? Someone might have seen my mum-"

"I doubt that Draco," Nymphadora said solemnly, looking around for a full minute before she led him towards a strange staircase leading underground. "One thing I've learned as an Auror is how to scope out a room to find people who actually know something of value and how to spot those just repeating pub gossip… and embellishing it of course. Now, down you go into the Underground-"

Draco eyed the stairs warily. They were surrounded on both sides by gates of heavy black iron, the pikes resembling the gothic architecture that decorated the Dowager Cottage on Malfoy Manor. Ominous noises that sounded suspiciously akin to the chaos of the busy Muggle street crept out from the stairs, but when he peered down he could see only a foreboding blackness. 

Nothing good could rest down there. He thought of all the horrors of Mugglekind his father had told him about when he was younger and he began to feel a sickening bundle of fear deep within his stomach. _Please let it not eat me._ He thought weakly, jumping skittishly when Nymphadora laid a hand on his shaking shoulder.

"You don't know what the Tube is, do you?" Nymphadora laughed cheerfully, pointing to the square white banner with a red circle. The words "Underground" were rather blandly scribbled onto the banner, showing none of the creativity and magic that Wizard signs always displaced. It was alarmingly still against the busy noises down the stairs, and his fear only increased. Only something inhuman could have produced something that disturbing!

"I don't care to find out," Draco said, raising his nose into the air in an attempt at haughty indifference. "Especially when we could flag down that low class Wizard transportation, the Knight Bus."

"Aye, we could do that but I'm afraid the conductor has a wee bit of a grudge against me," Nymphadora's body language suddenly changed to a sheepish shrug, amplified by her shuffling of her booted feet. "You see... he didn't take kindly to me turning him down."

"For a date? We have to ride a Muggle MONSTER because some Wizard cannot handle a Witch's Rejection for a date?!"

"Actually, it was a marriage proposal," Nymphadora clarified, wincing at the words. "I couldn't very well think he was serious, as I had only known him for three minutes..." 

Draco felt his fear evaporate as his belly shook with laughter. "Three minutes? That's all it took? He must have been desperate!" 

Nymphadora reached out and smacked the back of Draco's head, causing the hair to fall into his gray eyes. "It isn't funny!" She denied, but she had a glint of laughter in her eyes. "Now, come on, we gots to get down there before the platform gets filled."

Apprehension gnawed at Draco again. "Platform?" He asked weakly, but Nymphadora merely grabbed him by the material of his shirt and yanked him down the stairs. 

The darkness revealed to be an underground building, marked by super-clean white walls that gleamed ominously. It was filled by Muggles streaming towards different holes in the walls. 

"Come along Draco, I have to pay for our tickets." Nymphadora said, pulling him along towards a small counter. Draco was to busy to notice anything Nymphadora was doing as he was too busy staring at the people. Muggles.

"Alright, let's catch our Tube, shall we?" Nymphadora said, pulling him towards another counter.

Tube?" He asked as they stood in a small line. 

The line was so small that they only stood there for half a second. It was much too fast for him-- he preferred things slow and dependable... 

"I'll explain later." She called out, pushing them through a strange counter and on to the other side.

"But where... where are we going?" Draco got out between gasps of much needed air in the crowded building.

Nymphadora tightened her hold on his sleeve. "Tufnell Park Station." She called out before pulling him left towards an opening. They stumbled into a long room with a short, circular ceiling. The walls were curved and shined with a strange, pale white coat of paint that screamed Muggle. There were still signs and banners that proclaimed even stranger ads, including an interesting one with a half naked female Muggle. But Nymphadora was pulling him also so fast he couldn't stop to gawk. 

"Station? So... this is a train-" Draco began to say when he looked back to see a tube-shaped metallic monster speed towards them. "WHAT IS THAT ABOMINATION?!" He screamed as he stopped, trembling. 

"Your ride!" Nymphadora said lightly, pulling him rudely before speeding towards a small section of the ground that was filled with Muggles who looked oddly bored and indifferent to the creature speeding towards them. Several were dangerously close to the white line-- the boundary between the ground and the strange sunken rail that the monster was running on. 

"WHAT?!" Draco screamed out over the loud noise, but Nymphadora didn't seem to hear him. They reached the mass of people and Nymphadora began to rudely push people out of her way with one hand, pulling Draco behind her with another towards the white line. "I don't think that is necessary..." He trailed off when his cousin sent him a harsh look. 

"Be ready to push! Our single objective is to find an open seat-- highly unlikely at this hour. If you have to, throw a sickie. Show no mercy to preggars women or old farts-- they may be faking it."

"Faking being pregnant?!"

"Aye, everyone wants a seat. I've seen stranger things." Nymphadora said wisely before turning her sharp eyes on the approaching silver THING.

"Muggles are weird." Draco said haltingly, feeling claustrophobic in the tight press of people. 

Nymphadora looked back at him, her eyes narrow. "DO NOT STARE at anyone once in the Tube," she said with pure authority.

"Why?" Draco demanded, eyeing the approaching monster. The Muggles around him gave up their act and were staring with interest at the monster as well, readying themselves to pounce upon it like the savages that they were.

"Then someone will talk to you and think you stupid." Nymphadora threw back at him over her shoulder.

"I'm not stupid! Muggles-"

"Enough with that talk-- people will think you stranger then you already are."

"I'm not-" He denied, but the loud squeal of the monster as it stopped cut off. He found himself being pulled through the mob of people as a door opened. A tight press of people were visible inside-- there was simply no way they were going to fit!

"We'll fit! Come on, push!" Nymphadora said as if she had heard his thoughts. Suddenly he was being pushed forward by a rude woman behind him and with a lunge he was inside the monster. The doors closed behind the rude woman, closing off his last escape route.

He turned his face back to the press of people. He was in a Tube, whatever it was, and it certainly fit the bill. There were seats besides the thin, dirty windows that were filled with self-absorbed people reading newspapers and ignoring their fellow passengers. Far more people were standing, holding on tightly to rails above their heads and carefully looking at anything but another person. The mass of people were tightly packed into the iron beast and were making a show of ignoring each other, but Draco couldn't help but gape at everything.

_It must have been the lack of air_. He thought, feeling strangely lightheaded. The strange wad of nerves returned to his stomach with a force and he ducked his head, remembering Nymphadora's words. 

The look at the ground was even worse then the rest of the tube-- food, grime, grease; other things he didn't have words for but knew were sick making littered his sight. The monster began to MOVE and he fell back onto Nymphadora from the momentum-- she jerks him backward with a single push. He wobbled, the lack of air ... the Muggles ... the woman behind him standing too close....

Draco closed his eyes, breathing through his nose_. I will not display weakness. My constitution is superior_. He thought against the raising illness in his stomach. _I_...

"Nymphadora..." He said in a small voice, his eyes squeezed tightly. "I... I think I'm going to be sick."

"AHH! We've got a puker here!" Nymphadora yelled far louder then she needed to, grabbing a plastic bag from a seated passenger. "Puke into this Drakie!" 

The swarm of people magically repelled away from him, but it was too late. It was over quickly, and Draco was thankful for it-- he'd **NEVER** been so embarrassed. "Here..." He said when it was done, his legs shaking violently as he held out the bag towards Nymphadora. 

His cousin winced, taking the bag with two fingers. The tube began to slow down, and Nymphadora left his side to push her way through to the door. "What-"

"Here you go sonny," a woman said, offering her seat to him. 

"N..." He began to say no to the Muggle... but he needed that seat. He took it graciously, or at least as graciously as a 15 year old who had just pucked for the first time in public could. He put his head between his knees and breathed deeply, closing his eyes so he couldn't see the floor again. 

The Tube came to a halt but Draco didn't look up. He heard the doors open and could feel the push of people towards the door, but he only squeezed his eyes tighter. He felt a coldness spread throughout his body but the only thing he could think about was his mother.

_Where is she?_ He wondered, clutching his legs tightly. _Why didn't she come for me?_

"Hey, good job, you caught a seat on your first try," he heard Nymphadora say, patting him on the back.

"I can assure you that WASN'T on purpose." Draco managed to say sourly.

"Yes, I could tell. It wasn't a graceful vomit." His cousin said with a snort.

He looked up and glared at her, but his body was too cold to offer any support in a tirade. He ducked his head down and felt something heavy being draped around his shoulders, a denim jacket by the rough feel against his soft skin.

"Wha?" He asked, looking up. A man, a Muggle Man nodded and turned back to his newspaper, his shoulders now bare of his jacket.

"Why..."

"Draco, mi'boy, you've found the one good and truly noble tube passenger left in all of London. Thank the man!" Tonks said, smacking him on the back of his head-- albeit lighter than before.

But Draco had never thanked a Muggle before. He didn't want the man's jacket-- it was heavy and smelled strongly of coffee, but it was a welcome warmth. He didn't say anything, couldn't, but he nodded at the man who smiled over his newspaper.

Draco felt something inside him lighten, and it wasn't his newly empty stomach. He felt lighter somehow... distinctly different but in a way he couldn't comprehend_. Must be the sickness._ He thought dismissively. 

*        *         *

It was difficult to maneuver on solid, unmoving land again.

Draco wobbled up the stairs at Tufnell Park Station, his face still pale although the incident had occurred almost an hour before. The rest of the Tube Ride had been uneventful. He'd given the man back his jacket as they had left, feeling strange about the whole incident but not wanting to say anything. He'd even muttered a thank you under his breath-- and Malfoy's never thanked anyone!

_Must be the Nymphadora influence.__ I hope we can reach Mum soon. This has been eventful enough for the summer._ He wondered about his mother, but his thoughts turned outward when he looked around him at the top of the stairs. 

"Where are we?" He demanded, looking around, trying to regain his bearings. 

"Tufnell Park, we have a few streets to walk before we get to my place. Don't worry-- no more Muggle transportation for you."

"Thank Merlin," Draco said quickly, following Nymphadora as she crossed the street. It wasn't nearly as busy as the streets outside the Leaky Cauldron had been, but the muggle cars were still dangerous enough. 

They walked quietly down the street, the shadows of the buildings cool against the oppressive heat. It was never this hot in the year-- but Draco wasn't about to discuss the weather with his cousin. He had more important things to discuss-- like refilling his weak stomach. He hadn't eaten since Breakfast and was trying to hid the grumbling of his stomach.

It wasn't dignified to have your stomach speak for you.

They stopped two streets over, Nymphadora suddenly letting out a laugh. "I forgot! Bless my heart, how could I have forgot!" She smacked her forehead and laughed harder, leaning against the cool wall of a building.

Draco looked at his cousin as if she had grown a second head. Which was possible, when you thought about it, her being a Metamorphmagus and all. 

"What did you forget?" Draco asked curiously. He looked around, making sure no one was staring at his cousin's odd behavior, but everyone was concentrating on themselves, ignoring the laughing girl. He caught sight of a brown shape flying towards them and was taken aback-- was that an Owl?

Sure enough, as it flew closer Draco was able to tell it was an owl, carrying a small letter. It was also heading straight towards Draco!

"Aye! Bless him!" Nymphadora suddenly said, waving at the owl. It settled on Draco's head for a brief minute before dropping the letter into his hand and taking flight again, it's talons biting into the soft skin of his crown. 

Draco was not amused. "What-"

"Read it!" Nymphadora urged, but her hand was in front of her mouth obviously trying to hide her sputters of laughter.

He unfolded the letter and looked at it. It was in a sprawling hand that reminded him of someone... who he couldn't say, but it nagged at him how familiar it was. It was a bunch of gibberish-- he had been hoping it was something about his mother, but the gibberish meant nothing to him. "Merlin gaveth to Arthur the wise 12 Grimmauld Place s of silver and satith down upon his toadstool, glad." He read, scratching at his hair absentmindedly.

"Is that what it says?" Nymphadora said mysteriously. 

He nodded. "I was hoping it was something about or from my Mum... telling me where she was or something."

Nymphadora pursed her lips but pushed off from the wall, nodding towards the end of the street. "Hm... well, let's get you to my place and then we can try and send word." 

They turned onto another street and Draco was startled to see that the name was "Grimmauld Place." Sure enough, they stopped before a big, if average appearing house with the number twelve.

He was instantly suspicious-- was the house protected by a secret keeper? Malfoy Manor had been in his early years so he knew the rules... but why would Nymphadora Tonks of all people have a HOUSE protected by a secret keeper?

"Welcome to my abode." She said with a sweep of her arm. "This house has been in the Black family for many years... I inherited it recently..." A shadow flickered across her face but was eclipsed by a bright smile. "Why don't you go in and get yourself settled? I have to look and see if ... well, I'll have a look outside for a bit before joining you. The door should be open..." She said distantly before heading out to the street again.

Draco turned towards the door, extremely confused. "Crazy cousin," he muttered under his breath but walked up to the door. It was indeed unlocked and pushed open easily enough. The hallway inside was dark but he walked in anyway, smacking his leg against something solid and crashing without any grace over it.

... It was his trunk. 

"Son of a-"

"BETRAYER! SNEAKING AROUND ME! I CAN SEE YOU!" A screaming hag shouted behind a tattered curtain. An unfelt wind pushed the curtains apart, revealing an old woman screaming unbecomingly at him.

"Look, I don't know who you are-"

"CHILD OF A FORNICATOR! BETRAYER OF MY BLOOD! I-"

"SHUT UP already, will you?" Nymphadora yelled at the hag. She reached over to grab a curtain but it swung out of her hands. A misshapen man appeared from a side door and grabbed the other one, and together they managed to close the curtain behind them, shutting the woman up effectively.

Nymphadora shook her head and turned back to Draco. "Sorry about that, she gets out of control sometimes."

The man turned around.

"Blimey," He said, jerking back on his heels to peer suspiciously at Draco, his baggy eyes unblinking. "Why's we gots a _Malfoy_ 'ere?" The putrid man waved his hand in an unmistakable superfine manner when he spoke Draco's surname.

Tonks rolled her eyes at the man's behavior. "Now Dung, he's my cousin and he's here to stay... until he leaves, right Draco?"

"Is 'e bribing yous, love? 'Cos I don take kind to that sort of thing, 'tween yous and mes, love." The squat man curled his dirty hands into fists in what was supposed to be a threatening gesture, but Draco could hardly find any threat from a smelly, dirty, old coot of a man who probably was drunk by the stench of cheap liquor that imbued his body.

Tonks snorted. "Don't you call me love, Dung, or I'll make sure Lupin forgets his potion during the full moon tomorrow!"

The man blinked, obviously confused by her threat. 

_Did he not know Profess... _Lupin_ was a werewolf?_ Draco wondered to himself, wishing his cousin would call off this repellent man before Draco's clothes began to catch the odors from the appropriately named man's presence.

"Beggin yous pardon, lo-Tonks," the man added hastily, catching the glare Nymphadora had thrown at him. "Just can yous 'plain why's that's a' threatening?"

"Because I'll make sure you're locked up in the cellar with him!" 

The pungent man began to shake violently. "Aws, but you couldn't do that tos me...?"

Again his cousin rolled her eyes, but the gesture was eased by Nymphadora's soft laugh. 

Apparently his cousin really did have a _foul_ taste in men. What, with a werewolf obviously living with her... and this RAG lording about her house insulting one of her blood...

"I guess I should.... formally introduce you, or something. Dung, this is my cousin Draco Malfoy. Draco, this is Mundungus Fletcher, a fellow co-worker of mine."

"HE works at the Ministry?!" The whole Ministry must be bonkers to hire a Wizard of such stench!

"'e thinks m' works for the globy M'stry?" The man let out a foul laugh, saliva flying at high speeds to strike Draco twice in the eye. 

"No Draco, Dung helps me with cases." She said mysteriously, and Draco wondered what exactly this Dungman could be helpful with. Stealing things? Making a room smell bad enough to produce enough cover for Nymphadora to do her Auror activities unnoticed?

"Wells, I's gotta business meetin in Gloucester. Batty Melphi gots 'ers knickers in a bunch 'ver m' price fors Loony Lockhart's Vampire Romance Books. Nicked 'em from 'ers neighbor, that Snape fella--"

"Professor Snape reads Vampire Romance Novels?" Draco burst out, his face turning a strange shade of purple. He didn't know whether to laugh or vomit.

"Nahs, Nahs, that other Snape, 'im with that good hair, Pericles. Ol' Randy Peri, good ol' mate. Sorry I nicked 'em books from 'im, but he deserved it fors what 'e says to me last week. 'e says m' business is cheatin fine Wizards out of 'ere knutes! But I says, I says cheatin bad Wizards out of 'ere gallons is m' business! Imagine me in business fors knutes!" The deranged man shook his head as if this was the most horrible thing in the world.

Draco began to back up, afraid of the strange man. He could hardly understand the gibberish that was spewing out of the man's mouth, much less stand the foul odor of his breath, which suspiciously smelled like three day old socks even Goyle would refuse to wear.

His cousin coughed and winked conspiratorially at Draco before turning to the aromatic Dung-man. "It was good to see you again, Dung, but I have to send an owl to my aunt Narcissa and see when she will pick up Draco. You know the way out, of course..."

The foul man bowed comically low, the trailing sleeve of his tattered coat brushing the floor, leaving a brown smudge on the floor when he straightened. "Good seeins you, love." He said, turning to leave the house. His legs, however, were so terribly bowlegged he lurched from one side to the other in a waddle of epic proportions.

Draco stifled his laughter and followed his cousin to a room down the hall. Inside on a small perch sat a molting owl that opened one malicious yellow eye long enough to glare at them before closing again. To the right of the owl was an ornate fireplace large enough for Draco to stand in comfortably. 

"Is that connected to the Floo?" He asked, pointing to the fireplace.

She considered his words for a moment before nodding. "I think so. Haven't tried it... Aparating license and all... we'll send you to Malfoy Manor in a bit, soon as I get word from your mum. Narcissa would be too proud to run from whatever problems the Ministry sought to lay on her door-- She was likely tear-arsing about, doing the job of two people what with...."

"My father being in Azkaban." Draco supplied bitterly, glaring at his shoes. They lacked the buffed sheen of wealth and privilege-he reminded himself to have the strange elf Kauff his father had raised from the Kitchen ranks to shine them when he returned home.

_If he ever will._ Draco thought, his inner voice full of melancholy. _I sound like a first year Hufflepuff._ He shook his head, straightening his body from the top of his head to the heel of his lackluster shoes. He was a Malfoy, after all, and no Malfoy should wallow in melancholy like a ignorant waste of magic.

"Yes, with that and other things." Nymphadora added mysteriously after a lengthy pause, her eyes glittering as she eyed Draco. He wondered what on earth she could be speaking of but before he could say anything the woman jerked the owl perch and jumped back in case the malcontent owl reached out to bite her fingers. 

The sleepy owl (who looked three shades past evil, and Draco should know what three shades past evil looked like!) let out a half-hearted croak and instead of lunging for a tasty finger to gnaw on in retribution for the shaking, eyed both Draco and Nymphadora with a half-lidded eye. 

"Truly a Slytherin beast." Draco noted, although he was glad his own owl was better tempered than this beast.

Nymphadora rolled her eyes. "Old Batty here is probably more Black than either you or I. She belonged to our first cousin once removed… the old owl was kept alive purely by the will of the House's equally batty House Elf."

"Which one of our Black relatives was it? That… Sirius fellow?"

"No, his younger brother Regulus. He was killed by Voldemort, you know. Believed strongly in the rights of the pure-bloods but ultimately was a bit too squeamish about the whole taking over the world thing."

Draco nodded, eager to supply the knowledge he knew of THAT brother. "Yes… Father has spoken to me of Regulus, said the boy was too much like his treacherous brother Sir-"

"You will not speak ill of Sirius Black in this house!" Nymphadora roared, her hands shaking at her sides and her face awash with a fury so intense that Draco fell backwards onto his rump on the thick oriental rung. "Do you hear me?!"

"Y-yes." Draco managed, backing away from the girl.

Nymphadora shook her head, her face calming significantly. "I can't blame you for what your parents have told you about the brothers-- however wrong it may have been. Sorry Draco, that was wrong of me. Let's just send out a note to your mum and get you home, right? It must be a long day for you, what with turning into a slug and all that."

"Don't remind me, please, Nymphadora." Draco said weakly, feeling sick again. He'd almost managed to forget about that part.

Nymphadora laughed shortly. "Call me Tonks, Draco. I HATE it when people call me by that name." She said as she busied herself with scribbling down a note on a blank piece of parchment. She squinted at the words and scribbled something out before nodding in satisfaction.

"But it is your name..." He began to say in confusion as his cousin folded the note.

"Aye, and a stupid one at that."  She said, slowly reaching towards the owl. It glared at her but allowed the note to be attached to its leg. 

"Alright you, off to Narcissa Malfoy. And quickly too!" She called out, and the bird slowly ruffled its feathers. "Quicker, please," She said dangerously low, and the belligerent bird very slowly took flight and disappeared out the open window, leaving the two cousins alone.

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but was mortified when his stomach rumpled loudly. 

Nymphadora--Tonks laughed again, her voice too bright and cheerful for the room. "Guess we'll save the tour for later-- let's get you something in that stomach of yours."

Draco allowed himself to be led out of the room, but he couldn't help but feel apprehensive. _Where are you Mum? And who was that woman in the Portrait... and why did she call me the child of an adulterer? _

---------------

**Bigger Author's Note**: Hallo everyone! Sorry again about the wait, but hopefully the scene with Draco on the Tube was worth it ^.^;;. I'm sorry if I got anything wrong with the Tube, but I've only been on a subway once, so I had to rely on research more then anything else. 

Mundungus's dialogue was intentionally being over played…. simply because the scene is told from Draco's point of view and that is how I think Draco would react to a man who's nickname is Dung and who smells like burnt, smelly socks. XD. Also, we have a hint of the mystery plot that begins in this chapter! Also, Draco is SLOWLY getting into the habit of calling his cousin Tonks, so if you can bare through the Nymphadora for a wee bit more everything should be fine!

**Next time**: we find out why Draco was allowed to visit 12 Grimmault Place; more clumsy Cousin Fun; and Draco finds out more than he ever wanted to know about his mother's family. And will he ever call her TONKS?


	3. Dungeons and Dormice

**Title**: Dungeons and Dormice

**Synopsis**: Over his objections, Draco is given the knut tour of 12 Grimmauld Place and discovers something startling...

**Author's Quick Note**: I blame school *___*. This chapter took far too long to get out and I'm terribly sorry *___*. The scenes are shorter, but no more Tube-sickness I promise... for this chapter anyway ^.^;; 

---

The house of his Black ancestors was certainly an interesting diversion from the mystery of his mother's disappearance. Every thing his eyes touched held a resonance within him, a sense of history he had never felt at Malfoy Manor. Although 12 Grimmauld Place was certainly as cold and unwelcoming as Malfoy Manor could be, Grimmauld Place held a sense of mystery, of things to be discovered.

The Manor only held a sense of doom-- be it a certain death if you touched the wrong book in the Library or if you ventured out in the darkness to be eaten alive by the strange creatures his father employed... _had_ employed to keep the grounds safe. 

_The question was, safe from whom_. Draco wondered distantly, his eyes catching sight of a black square hanging to the wall. He paused in his step, leaning closer to the square when he realized it wasn't just a black square-- it was in fact a portrait of some sort, a portrait of a depthless abyss. It fit his feelings of the house-- cold, but with a certain charm lacking in the aloof Manor.  

A mumble at his side was punctuated by a heavy tap on his shoulder.

"What?" Draco tore his eyes away from the fathomless picture on the wall to glare at his cousin. "What did you say?"

His cousin's hair actually twitched-- from an unfelt wind or one of her metamorphmagus tricks, Draco wasn't sure. "I asked you, what do you want?" 

He blinked, slowly comprehending what she was asking him. "Want... oh, to eat. A sandwich?" He trailed off, not sure if he could stomach food at that moment-- something about the portrait on the wall had drawn his focus off the necessary task of obtaining food. But not knowing when food would be offered again, Draco shrugged and left the question open ended. 

Maybe his cousin would think of something more satisfying. 

"I think I can manage that." Nymphadora-- Tonks-- said with an easy grin and pushed her way into what Draco could safely assume to be the Dinning Room. 

"Manage?" He realized then that he was suck, for an unknown amount of time, with someone who wasn't sure if they could manage to make a sandwich... and what was worse, didn't appear to have any House elves. 

_This is going to be a long day._ He thought as he followed suit, the door shutting sharply behind his shin. 

He looked around the room, a jumbled and spectacularly messy room if he'd ever seen one, and frowned. He didn't have much experience with Kitchens-- and that was what this room appeared to be, with the sink and various cooking devices he couldn't identify. He had only been in the Manor Kitchen once in his entire life, and he had been quickly shooed away by one of the Kitchen Elves-- a hefty task considering the Elf had been smacking it's head on some kind of a board while herding his inquisitive five year old self out. 

"Hallo again Draco," A low voice called out to the side. Draco controlled his urge to jump and turned towards the darkness, where two men were sitting at a large table he hadn't noticed in his first look around.  

It was Remus Lupin and some man Draco had never seen before. Not sure if he should act nice to the man... werewolf, Draco just stared at the shadows. He had no opinion of the dark man yet and intended to keep it that way... he'd done entirely too much thinking for his first day of summer holiday as it was.

"Did you find out about your mum?" Lupin tried to engage Draco again, a jovial note in his voice completely at odds with the hardened look on his face. 

"No, Aunt Narcissa still eludes us," Nymphadora called out from the sink area. "I'm afraid Draco might have to stay the night."

"I... what?!" Draco turned towards his cousin, shocked. "But I thought-"

"I can't very well have you left to your own devices at the Manor, especially with the Ministry Officials certain to burst over there at any moment. Although you are certainly old enough to look out for yourself, long term care is still required by a parent or guardian. And as your closest relative, at least by blood, you'll have to stick with me for a while yet."

"I... I guess so." He heard his voice drop into a sulk but didn't care. He didn't want to be stuck here, especially with _these kinds of people_! He wanted to be at home in the monotony of the Manor... didn't he?

"One night shouldn't be too difficult for you, Draco. It's the day to day living at Grimmauld Place that grows more troublesome." There was a great tension in Lupin's voice, a harsh note that caused a shudder down Draco's spine. _He's in pain_. Draco astutely realized, uncomfortable with the thickness of grief openly displayed in the werewolf's gray eyes. 

He heard a sharp sniffle and turned back to see Tonks busying herself with something in the sink, a shimmer of liquid rolling unheeded down her cheek and a most miserable look on her face. _She's sad too._ He thought, even more at loss as to what to say, what to do. _It's about that Black, Sirius Black I bet. Mum always said he was no good... but this... must have been his house, up till his death._

_These are his friends._ Draco realized, wishing he could just run away from the scene. He had never experienced true grief before, and to see people trying to put it behind them but to have the wounds tear open in the most domestic of scenes was painful to bare-- and he wasn't even experiencing it, just observing. 

_I hope I never feel as strongly for someone as to cry over a sink for them._

The unknown man cleared his voice and stood, melting out of the shadows. His skin was very dark, which explained why he had hidden in the shadows of the Kitchen so well, and Draco was relieved that his face was devoid of grief, instead just the regular type of sternness one would see in any sort of a Ministry official-- and Draco had seen many in his years as Lucius Malfoy's son and only heir. 

"I've got to catch Lucy Roboros before she leaves." The dark man said quickly, nodding to both Lupin and Tonks and firmly ignoring Draco as he brushed past. 

_I'd bet anything that man was an Auror._ Draco sniffed, not liking the way the man had ignored him, as if he wasn't even there! Wasn't even worth a bloody nod to satisfy the laws of acknowledgement, of social worth! 

"Don't worry about him," To-Nymphadora said clearly, her face still wet but her voice stead. "He still thinks children should be seen, not heard."

"Didn't bloody well see me," Draco grumbled to himself, feeling immensely awkward. He didn't want to sit by the werewolf, and there was no seats by Tonks, so he stood where he was. 

As of noticing the inner awkwardness Draco was feeling, Lupin picked up a newspaper and opened it, sparing him a brief glance. "How was Diagon Alley?" 

The voice was low and noncommittal, but Draco knew it was a quiet opening for Draco to take a seat by the werewolf. His aching feet decided the matter for him by walking towards the chair the rude man had vacated only a few moments ago, his feet moving on their own accord. He himself had nothing to do with it, of course.

"It was hot," He bit off the sir that had been on the tip of his tongue and slouched into the seat, trying to keep the relief off his face. His feet were simply not used to all the walking and standing...

"Yes, it's been a concern for how abnormally hot it has been for Diagon Alley lately. Something wrong with the weather charms, I gather-- nothing too serious..." Lupin swallowed before continuing. "Nothing that can't be avoided."

"Yeah, by avoiding Diagon Alley in the first place." Tonks called from the sink. 

_Does she realize what a sandwich is?_ Draco wondered, crossing his arms over his chest. _Even I know you don't have things that need washing to go between the slices of bread!_

"Or by dressing in a more appropriate manner for the weather," Lupin added with a crinkle of the newspaper. "Nymphadora, what on earth are you doing to the sink?"

"Making sandwiches."

Draco was startled to hear the werewolf groan loudly before strolling to the sink. "Honestly Nymphadora, if you wanted me to make sandwiches you only had to ask."

"I don't bloody want you to make sandwiches! I told the boy I'd make them and I damned will!" Tonks raised the butcher knife she'd been holding and waved it pointedly in the werewolf's direction.

Draco held his breath.

"Nymphadora, please have the sense to put the knife down before one of your notorious accidents occurs again. I doubt I can afford another bill for another hole mended from one of my shirts."

Instead of growing angry and waving the knife around as Draco half expected his cousin to do, Tonks dropped the knife into the sink and merely glared at the tall man. "I've half a mind to make the sandwiches anyway," Tonks warned before sauntering over to the table.

---

Satiated by the towering stacks of sandwiches Remus made and the half jar of bitter lemonade he'd gulfed down afterwards, Draco was eager to return to exploring the house. Tonks, however, was still upset and wandered off to some section of the house for a nap, leaving Draco alone with the werewolf. 

The air in the Kitchen crackled with an undercurrent of too tight collars, shifting feet, and the rustle of a nervous set of eyes moving from man to clock, clock to man. It was too quiet-- the shuffling of the newspaper was sharp and -- Draco began to understand what Madame Pince felt like, every noise amplified by the departure of silence far beyond sound, but of words that should be said but refused to come out. In all honesty, Draco couldn't remember a handful of times more uncomfortable than sitting at a strange table with his old DADA teacher, trying to perch comfortably on a chair and ignore the world as he was supposed to. 

But being self contained was never Draco's strong suit, much to the disappointment of his father. He had always been curious, too curious for his own good. His father always said having his mother raise him had softened him, lead him to weakness no Malfoy man could afford to have in such precarious times. He could almost hear the acid disapproval heavy in his father's voice. _A proper pure-blood wizard is to be raised by House-elves or not at all_. _Narcissa you coddle the boy too much-- look at his insufferable marks! No son of mine would have such dismal performance against a MUGGLE... _

He shifted in his seat, eager to do something beyond sit here and think, sit here and brood about things he didn't want to think of in the first place. This was worse than a Divination lesson with that-

"Were the sandwiches satisfactory?" Lupin's voice was loud, booming in Draco's ears, louder than the churn of his blood rushing to his face. 

"Yes," Draco answered shortly, trying to quell the impulse to swing his legs. The chair was so tall his feet barely touched the ground-- obviously another defect for his father to complain about_. No child of mind could be so short_! Or even worse_ He must be a throw back to your side, Narcissa-- look at the lack of intellect or beauty in his face. And lacking all forms of grace!_

_As if a Wizard was supposed to be graceful_. Draco thought grimly, rebelliously swinging his legs. _I just wish father... father would stop. _He thought back to the crazy woman in the portrait from earlier-- she had called his mother an adulterer... 

_Why would I believe a portrait over my own sense! My mother is a wonderful person-- she'd never DO something like that._ A churning sensation began in his stomach, a cold tendril of uncertainty he did his best to ignore. _Mum gave up so much for me..._

"I say, you must be mightily bored Draco," Lupin remarked suddenly, folding the paper and setting it carelessly on the table. "How about a quick tour of the old place? Nymphadora mentioned something about giving one before she departed."

"Sure," Draco said noncommittally, his shoulders automatically giving a pathetic shrug even though his mind was screaming with joy. No more boring thoughts! No more doubts! He could *finally* embark on an adventure-- even if it was as small or potentially dull as a tour of a house. Anything was better than being in this Kitchen. 

Lupin opened his mouth like he was about to say something else but shut it quickly as he stood, looking about the room. Draco took that moment to slide down from the chair, feeling incredibly childish and young as he did. The chair was ridiculously high! 

"That's young Ginny's favorite chair," Lupin confided, holding the door open. "She visited last summer-"

"Wait, Ginny WEASLEY?" Draco began hotly, imagining the whole brood of red haired monsters swarming the cool house, tainting the wonder with their loud stupid ways. He didn't know a lot about the youngest one beyond the fact she was a tomboy and, he admitted grudgingly to himself, a fair Seeker. Not that he'd ever admit that to anyone of course, much less himself giving normal circumstances. 

"Yes, the Weasley brood, full of life and simple joys-- well, except for the twins, but you can't have everything in a family," Lupin smirked and shook his head, appearing much younger than he usually did. 

"I... They..." Draco opened his mouth but couldn't find the right words. He wanted to insult the family, but without them here, what was the point? It was a waste of good ammunition. Besides, he wanted a tour of the house and to risk it on insulting the Weasley's when he could do that everyday was not on his list of things to do. 

Granted it was only two things right now-- 1) Find Mum and 2) Explore House. He mentally added a third option, Keep Ny-Tonks away from Kitchen when he stomach began to growl again. Lupin, on the other hand, could stay in the Kitchens as long as he wanted, making all the sandwiches Draco could stuff into his face.

Draco nodded as they passed where his trunk remained in the center of the entryway to the house. "I trust my trunk did not prove difficult to haul from the Train Station?"

Lupin smiled, an expression of borderline mirth Draco was unused to. Complete mirth, yes; malicious joy, even more so-- but a mixture of humor and happiness? Hardly! "No problems to be spoken of, beyond the one drop in front of the Weasleys. They proved quite entertaining as they searched your belongings for potential bribes."

He looked at the man, aghast. The thought of freckled, greasy hands on his under things suddenly made him feel queasy. He began to sputter in a most inelegant fashion, nearly tripping over a raised piece of carpet in his horror.

He missed Lupin raising an eyebrow at his appearance, but there was no mistaking the soft mockery in his tone. "I was joking, Draco."

"Oh. Oh, yes of course," Draco added haste-fully, his eyes quickly looking to the right and left to make sure no one had heard or seen his folly. 

---

They descended down the stairs of the dungeon, Draco eagerly following close to Lupin's heels. He had worn Lupin down with his incessant pleas to see the dungeon-- Malfoy Manor's had long been off limits to the youth and he was insanely curious to see what this one looked like. 

One flicker of Lupin's bright wand lowered whatever curiosity he had held for the room-- it was nothing more than the cold feel of the dungeons at Hogwarts-- dark, dreary, and covered with a lot of nasty dust. 

"No one comes down here anymore. Except for me," Lupin said quietly, using his wand to light the torches along the four stone walls. The room took an eerie, yellow-green tint-- Draco shivered, not entirely comfortable in this space. For some reason the room was giving him a case of the creeps something fierce.

"Is this... where you-"

"Yes, once a month this is where I come to change into-"

"Oh," Draco interrupted, the room taking on a new measure of interest. He noted the hollowness of the room-- there was a lone wooden bench by one wall but that was it. "Do you need a lot of room to be a werewolf?" 

"Actually Draco, the more appropriate term for the disease is lycanthropy, or in the form you were using a lycanthrope. But yes, this is where I manifest the worst of the lycanthropy symptoms; changing into a wolf of sorts."

Draco looked at Lupin uneasily, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Disease?" 

"Yes, Lycanthropy is in fact an illness-- I'm not naturally a monster, unlike _some_ whole wizards I could name who lack the defense of a health problem for their behavior." Lupin's features were stern and harsh, and for the first time Draco felt real fear standing close to the man-- not because he was, as he put it a monster-- but because he was a powerful wizard. The waves of anger, controlled as they were, ebbed from in in a strength not even his own father contained. 

If there was ever a reason to be afraid of Lupin, this was it. The power inside of him was honed from years of suffering-- and unnatural suffering he hadn't asked for. He'd never thought about what made a werewolf a werewolf before, excluding the essay Snape had the DADA class write in his third year. He knew his knowledge about what Lupin was couldn't fit an empty Chocolate Frog box, and he felt the edges of curiosity building inside.

"Does silver kill... lycanthropes?" Draco asked shortly, almost biting his tongue when Lupin turned his attention back onto him. 

"Wh-no, normal silver doesn't. Magically imbued silver, however, could have a devastating effect, although thankfully I haven't been the end of any of Severus Snape's experiments."

"Snape... has been experimenting-"

Lupin nodded curtly, taking a seat on the wooded bench, rubbing at his graying temple. "Ever since your third year, in fact. There are many things to be said about your Head of House-- many more things better left unsaid-- but there is no denying his abilities with brewing potions and conducting experiments of a superior nature. He has been brewing a very complicated potion since that year to counteract the worst symptoms of my change-"

"Does it hurt? To change?"

Lupin looked pained for a moment, his eyes distant. "Yes, very much so," he finally said softly. 

Draco turned and followed the man's gaze to see deep claw marks on the walls. He knew instinctually that Lupin's.... alternate form had done those. Even under one of Snape's potions? "Have you ever ... ever made another-"

"No, I have never bitten anyone-- well, that isn't true. I've never transferred my lycanthropy to another person though I did occasionally nibble on my schoolmates, a group of close friends, who learned how to become animagi to comfort me during those lonely nights. It... was a great help."

"And Sirius Black was one of them?" He asked quickly.

"Along with Harry's father, yes. We were... similar to Harry, Hermione, and Ron, in fact; intent on mayhem wherever we went. Either that or it seemed to follow us regardless of what we did."

"A trio?" Draco said, more than a hint of disgust in his voice.

"No, there was another." Something in Lupin's voice halted Draco's rapid line of questions. A deep chasm of anguish so great, so overpowering it silenced Draco completely. He recognized the betrayal on Lupin's voice-- it was more than just in the tone, but shimmering through his essence, a dark stain of shame. 

Draco took a deep breath, finding it hard to breathe suddenly. It felt like a budger had struck his chest, knocking the air out of him. It ached, deep inside-- an alien feeling to him. What was going on? 

It hit him suddenly-- He felt sorry for Lupin. Somehow, he saw the man really as a man, not as a monster-- the man who had taken him on a tour of a house that wasn't even his, a man who had made him some of the best sandwiches he'd ever had before and hadn't asked for a thank you in return. A man who knew more about suffering then anyone Draco had ever met. 

He felt sick to his stomach, his breath in short gasps. "The air is really stale down here," he offered lamely, climbing the stairs to get away from the dungeon, away from the man-- away from those awful feelings. 

---

Draco was tired of waiting in his room. He had been up here for two hours, ever since an odd assortment of people had arrived and he had found himself ushered into this ... cabinet, not room. It was hot, his trunk was still downstairs, and he was too tired to yell out his frustration and get someone to alleviate the air temperature with a spell. _Summer Holidays were horrid when you had to watch your spell work_, Draco thought nastily, glaring at the wall as if it was to blame for all his troubles. 

It was, after all, a faded paisley pattern which had no business being on a wall of a room, much less a BOYS bedroom. 

He sighed loudly, but of course no one would hear. Everyone was downstairs in the rundown mess of a Kitchen, meeting about SOMETHING. He had a suspicion it was something his father would want him to spy about, but he oddly felt a fatigue, a heavy weight on his shoulders at the thought. Besides, they were probably discussing what to do with HIM, not anything important. 

... Not that he shouldn't be the most important thing on everyone's minds. 

He eyed the paisley pattern for the sixtieth time and felt a surge of anger. Why was he stuck in this forsaken place? Why did he have to be stuck in this HORRID room when he could have a whole Manor to himself/ Why didn't his mother pick him up? Why did his cousin feel she had to take him in?! _Why Why Why,_ he thought to himself with a roll of his eyes, _That's__ all I ever do, all I ever ask. But I never get any answers!_

He jumped off the high bed, his mind made up. _To the Kitchen!_ He thought to himself, feeling a smirk tug at his lips. He had more than enough experience with sneaking around to avoid 'capture,' and the thought of doing something made his blood pump faster and his lips widen into a grin. This was as close to Quidditch as he could get on the ground-- the roar of his heart pounding in his ears, the uncertainty of capture, the thrill of success--

He winced as his foot stepped on a creaky step. His body tensed, his breathing froze-- but there was no sign he had been found out and he began to slowly scale his way down the stairs. 

There were no further setbacks, and soon he was at the Kitchen door, his ear delicately pressed to the wood. Although he knew there had to be at least twenty people behind the door he could only hear a faint murmur-- the room had been spelled. 

_Not a complete success then,_ He thought in disappointment and slowly dropped to the ground, leaning his back against the wall. A great yawn stretched across his face-- it was terribly hot downstairs, despite the open windows... maybe he could close his eyes for just a second...

---

Tonks slowly opened the kitchen door and peeked her head outside-- sure enough, Draco was next to the door, but his eyes were closed and his breathing was even. "Poor thing," She whispered, a half smile on her face. 

"Poor thing? I don't think I've heard anyone call M... Draco a poor thing." Remus snorted in his soft manner from behind her. "He's much too pinched faced for such sentiments anyway."

Tonks rolled her eyes and nodded at the boy at her feet. "How did you know he was out there?"

"Simple," Remus paused long enough to push her through the door. "This is where I would be if I was in his place. Any boy of his age would naturally be drawn to the one place denied to him in the new territory-- especially if he is of the opinion that people are discussing him inside that territory."

"Which we were," Tonks smirked, shaking her head as she looked down at her cousin. He hardly looked his age, curled up beside the door, his head tilted in such a fashion that it caused the light to smooth his face to a less angular vision. He looked young-- but not quite innocent, the curl of his lips betraying the boy even in his restful slumber_. I wonder what dreams he has-- mutilating poor rabbits I'd bet_. She thought without rancor, not recognizing herself in his smirk. "Do you think bringing him here was a bad idea, then?"

Remus carefully closed the door behind him-- miraculously Draco appeared to still slumber on, ignorant of the two adults above him. "This was the first meeting here since... since the attack, so any business won't be affected by his being here, we'll simply have to meet elsewhere. You couldn't very well leave him at the Station."

"Oh, I'm sure between now and when we hand him over to Aunt Narcissa I'll be regretting picking him up." Tonks rolled her eyes and hunkered down beside the sleeping Draco. 

"What are you-"

"I can't very well have him sleep outside the Kitchen door-- Merlin knows the kink he's got in his neck already from falling asleep like that, poor thing." 

"Let me, Nymphadora." Remus crouched down and slung the boy over his shoulder, showing no strain or struggle with the burden of the thin sixteen year old beyond a reddened face.

"You could have just used a spell on him," Tonks grumbled at Remus' show of masculine strength. With a quick motion she lit her wand and was leading the way to the guest quarters on the second level. "And don't call me Nymphadora."

-------------------------------------------

**Author's Note**: The good news is I finished this chapter before April was finished-- the bad news is that I did it pretty much at the last minute. I had the beginning and ending of the chapter set way back in March, but school projects and my birthday (21! Yay!) this week kept me from getting any quality writing time in. Originally this chapter was going to happen later on, but I decided to cut the original idea of chapter 3-- having a full on tour of the house-- and instead move up Lupin!bonding time. Or whatever you want to call their Dungeon discussion. Also, Tonks is scary with a knife ^.^;;

As for the Weasley Clan... they are coming, but not for another 2-3 chapters. 

Also, I gave a lot of thought to having Remus actually being able to pick up and carry Draco-- I made Draco shorter for the fic, true, but with Remus as sickly as he is I wasn't sure if it was believable him being able to carry such a weight. So, I've decided to make this a plot point ^.^;;. 

As for next chapter-- where the heck is Narcissa? Will we find out? Maybe! Or maybe instead Draco will have to *gasp* do manual labor!


	4. Dustbunny Hitmen

**Title**: Dustbunny Hitmen

**Synopsis**: What's worse then being forced to stay with his muggle-loving cousin? And why does it include rabid dustbunnies?!

**Author's Quick Note**: I was really disappointed in the last chapter (honestly, I regret releasing it because I dislike the "meshing" of the major scenes) so I decided not to release chapter four until I was absolutely sure it was ready to be finished. See bottom note for more reasons and notes on things .;;

---

It was morning.

Draco knew this even as he fought against the impulse to open his eyes and examine what this bright and almost eyeball searing morning would offer him. Today was the first full day of Hols and there was absolutely no possible way Draco Malfoy was going to be up and, more importantly, _lucid_ before the beloved noon hour.

It was absurd to think otherwise!

There was a precedent to be maintained, after all-- for the previous four summer Holidays Draco had _never_ left his bed before the noon hour, and quite frankly the world would have to be _ending_ before Draco would leave his bed before the huge longcase clock in his room throbbed twelve deep rings.

Even if he was insanely curious about what the morning could bring, his eyes itching to open and behold the wonderful view of Malfoy Manor in summer holiday. If he only snuck open an eyelid and looked around....

It was at that moment that Draco realized three fundamental truths that shocked him to the very tip of his perfect toes.

First, the roughness of the bedclothes swathing his form most certainly were not from the stash of fine Egyptian linens his mother coveted nearly as much as her stash of fine Muggle Chablis, hidden from his father and indeed, hidden from himself as well. Draco would never have discovered the fine wine if he hadn't accidentally discovered the stash when avoiding his father after a particularly nasty argument over his academic skills. _Poor Mother was left with two fewer bottles of her stash after that..._

Second and next in horror inducing revelation was the memory of the day before, his mother's apparent abandonment and his new place in the care of his cousin Nymphodora Tonks_. She must have levitated me into this nest of insufferable itch inducing hell_. Draco didn't feel the slightest tinge of shame for being caught snooping on the activities of the werewolf and his cousin-- one must always snoop if you are at a disadvantage, and he wouldn't be a Malfoy if he didn't recognize what a disadvantage he was in, weakened by the loss of a mother and barely de-slugged.

He winced_. Mental mark to self: Never remember the experience of the bubble of slime. Also, destroy everyone involved and NEVER THINK OF BEING FONDLED BY GOYLE'S MOTHER_. He shuddered again, brining him to his third and worst revelation:

He was clothed only in his unmentionables.

Which meant under the thin bedclothes, he, Draco Malfoy, was _almost_ completely naked... and he was positive someone had seen him as such, for he had no recollection of taking his clothes off and he knew he wasn't a Sleep Nudist.

Someone was going to pay for this or his name wasn't Draco Malfoy!

---

Meanwhile downstairs, oblivious to the enraged threats Draco was spouting above their heads, Tonks and Remus were slowly leaving the Kitchen while deep in earnest discussion.

"Well, we can't punish the boy; he hasn't actually done anything _wrong_..." Tonks pointed out, smashing the last of the golden biscuit into her mouth. It was evenly cooked and tasted delicious so therefore had to be one of the few remaining survivors of Molly Weasley's cooking.

"_Yet_," Remus pointed out.

"If I have anything to say about it, there won't be any future trouble, or at least nothing we can't handle." Tonks said confidently, crossing her arms and leaning casually against the doorframe.

Remus raised an eyebrow and leaned back on his heels. "You aren't suggesting what I think you are suggesting, are you?"

"And what do you think I'm suggestion?" She teased.

"Keeping him hogtied in the dungeon with a gag to keep him from harassing the Weasleys when Molly brings them over later this week?"

Tonks snorted loud enough to earn her a glare from the portrait of poor Mewet Black, unnoticed by everyone despite his rather handsome self for the sad reason that his portrait, just like he himself had been while alive, was as silent. "Hardly!"

"Giving him a comatose potion and storing him in the cubboard above the stairs?"

"Surely you wouldn't suggest-"

"Oh no! I've got it! Transform him into one of those miniature piglets and introduce him to young Ginny Weasley as your latest ridiculous pet!"

"I'll have you know, _Mr. Lupin_, that none of my pets are ridiculous! And changing a minor into an animal _is_ technically against the law!"

"Not that you haven't done it before."

"OH!" Tonks glared at Remus before cracking a large smile. "And just for that I'm going to get you a pet now."

"A ... Nymphadora pet? Whatever did I do wrong to deserve such a monstrosity on four legs?"

"I'll pretend I didn't hear you say that and move on with my ingenious plan." Tonks tossed her short blonde curls behind her in an overly smug fashion.

"I'll wait to pass judgment on if it is ingenious or a disaster in the waiting, mind you."

"The _solution_," Tonks continued stressing the word by throwing her arms out (and also to mask how close she had been to teetering backwards) "is so simple, so effective, so very ingenious I'm surprised YOU didn't think of it first."

"Why thank-"

"We'll just have a take a page out of Molly Weasley's book of keeping teenagers out of trouble." Tonks said brightly, her smile so wide it made the corners of her eyes crease.

Remus looked at Tonks carefully, a lopsided smile slowly unfolding and a wry look in his hazel eyes. "Why Nymphadora, are you saying we should scream at the poor boy till he expires?"

Tonks shook her head, her eyes bright with laughter. "No Remus, I'm suggesting we put him to... manual labour!"

---

Apprehension was gnawing on Draco's stomach. The house was unnaturally quiet-- that shouldn't bother him, as Malfoy Manor was comparable to an abandoned crypt most of the time. But some part of him knew the house should be bustling at this hour, crazy werewolves and completely bonkers cousins arguing over sandwiches, rude foul smelling men trying to sell potatoes or some bizarre and utterly worthless thing lounging about in walkways... teenage boys laying in bed denying that it was past time for him to be up moving around.

_But I am from a class of luxury! Malfoys do not have to get up before they are ready to, at least not during the holiday! I refuse to get up! I'm privileged!_

Draco smirked from within his tent of bedclothes. He felt oddly secure inside, even though his tosseled hair was the only thing holding the tent upright. He folded his legs together and grinned, feeling all of five in his tent.

_I refuse to get up-_

Something was outside his door. Draco felt his eyes widen, suddenly afraid, really afraid. If his cousin considered foul smelling men to be prime company, who knows what else could be lurking in this shoddy house? _At least I'm not with that monster Hagrid, one of his foul beasts would probably EAT me and he'd sit back and laugh! Nasty sort of man-- half-breed that Hagrid is..._

The door creaked open, followed by the heavy thud of something entering. He held his breath, remaining completely still. _Maybe it won't see me if I just sit here. Still like. _He thought irrationally, blinking when he heard two sets of completely different feet.

_Oh Merlin there's a four footed monster in my room! I refuse to die this way, munched to death on the first day of my __Holiday__, especially before I've gotten back at Potty Potter and turned HIM and his friends into slimy, bubble slurping slugs! _

He lurched from the sheets, screaming in holy terror pointing, his wandless hand pointing directly at...

A bemused Nymphadora Tonks and a chuckling Remus Lupin.

_Oh sweet Merlin!_ He thought as he fell off the bed, blushing madly. _They must think me absolutely crazy!_

"Ah, wotcher Draco!" Tonks called out cheerfully, but Draco could certainly hear the amusement in her voice.

_Why did I have to get stuck with such a horrible relative who makes fun of me in my most vulnerable moment? Wait a tick, I'm a Slytherin-- we don't have vulnerable moments!_ Steeled by that house reminded, Draco reached up and quickly pulled the bedclothes down onto the floor. Only with the bedclothes wrapped securely around him did Draco slowly rise, taking a measure of comfort in his semi-clothed state.

Only to be confronted by both Tonks and Lupin laughing very loudly.

"My mother raised me to not laugh at the misfortune of others before a civilized breaking of the fast." Draco said stiffly, trying to stand there regally. The image was not helped by the stubborn drooping of the right fold over his slim shoulder.

Tonks grinned and pointed to him... or rather his hair. "The last time I saw hair that rumbled was on Harry-"

"Don't you dare say it!" Draco squealed, forgetting his death grip on the bedclothes as he leaped towards a mirror. Panic gave way to disgust as he saw his perfect blonde hair was in complete disarray-- in fact, it looked even WORSE than Potters did!

Tonks chuckled and walked over to ruffle his hair-- he shrank from her touch, mostly out of habit-- people were not supposed to touch a Malfoy's hair, after all! Usually the gel was a deterrent... "All you need is a good brush-- I should know, my hair is exactly like yours." She said matter of factly.

"It is?" Remus said quietly from the doorway.

There was a tone of disgust on Tonks' voice as she grabbed a silver antique brush and wordlessly began yanking it through Draco's fine hair. "I hate my hair-- flat and fine and far too blonde for my liking. Mum always said I looked too much like my aunt-- and Draco here might have a lot of his father in his face, but he inherited the same horrible hair I did."

"My hair is not horrible! It's unique and very Malfoy!" Draco denied, glaring at his cousin in the mirror. "And I can very well brush my hair myself you know!"

Tonks grinned at him in the mirror but continued to brush his hair-- softer this time, with smooth strokes that a very small part of him knew to be very soothing. But that part of him was buried under years of simmering anger and weren't about to make themselves know... yet.

One final sweep through his hair and Tonks stepped back, grinning. "There you go cousin-- straight and boring, but now you won't be mistaken for an albino Harry Potter now-"

"I would NEVER be mistaken for HIM." Draco said stiffly, glaring at the mirror. He had to admit his hair looked a little better falling around his face instead of gelled back-- but he looked decidedly UNMalfoy, as everyone knew the Malfoy hairdo was consisted of 3/4ths gel and 1/4th hair.

"No, no you wouldn't." Remus said quietly, and Draco shot him his best glare. The werewolf almost sounded like it was a bad thing Draco wasn't like that horrible half blood...

"ANYWAY," Tonks said, pulling Draco completely around rather roughly. "We interrupted your snooze party for a reason."

"You've found my mum?" Draco said eagerly, not stopping a hopeful smile from tugging at his lips. But the looks on first Tonks and then Remus' faces turned his small smile into a frown.

"No, although we have been trying. No one seems to know what happened to her-- but we will find her Draco."

"We've got the best Auror on the job-- Nymphadora will find her faster than... than..."

"Than Remus can spell chocolate." Tonks finished with a grin. "Which might be a good idea, because I don't think Draco is going to take his activity schedule for today very well?"

"Activity schedule?" Draco repeated slowly, staring at both of the adults with slow horror.

"Yep! We figure we might as well put some meat on your bones while your here-- a little manual labor-"

"I'M A MALFOY AND I WILL NOT DO LABOR." Draco screamed, stomping his foot so hard the room shook. "YOU WILL NOT TURN ME INTO A NAFFING HOUSE-ELF YOU FRE-" Draco continued mouthing his rage, but the words no longer screamed out. Draco was so consumed with his tantrum he didn't realize Remus had cast a silencing spell on his vocal cords.

"Honestly, you'd think he's welcome the chance to gain some muscles-- I thought all boys wanted them, especially the Quidditch players." Tonks whispered to Remus, a conspirator gleam in her eyes.

"But he's a Malfoy." Remus said solemnly. "Or-- Oh dear, I believe the boy has fainted."

Tonks turned to look as her cousin fell plum over sideways. "Eh, he's just faking. Honestly Draco, fainting is such a GIRLY response."

That got Draco up to his feet, clumsily grabbing the bedclothes as they began to pool at his feet. He opened his mouth and began to talk, but nothing came out.

Remus turned to Tonks, a gleam in his eyes. "Maybe we should keep him like this."

Tonks chuckled. "If we did you'd have to put a bell on his neck so we'd know before he started attacking the Weasleys."

Remus groaned. "Maybe we can work that out of him...."

"Ha! There aren't enough hours in the day to work anything about of poor Draco. Except, maybe, a few gallons of sweat."

And that was how Draco Malfoy came to have a new enemy.... and her name was Nymphadora Tonks.

---

"What was he like?" Draco asked suddenly, the rag he was holding with the tips of his fingers falling listlessly to the ground in a slow descent. His arms were collectively so tired he could imagine that they looked as if someone had sucked all the bones away-- a gruesome sight to match the awful exhaustion he felt. His fleshy insides burned, his bones felt like swollen , and he felt much shorter then he unfortunately was, like all this dusting of the third floor had grinded him down to the height of a first year. A tiny, malnourished, pigmy with a hunched back to rival even the monstrous humpback that was his ancient great-aunt Malaxis. A-

"What was who like?" Tonks wheezed, her pale face streaked with dingy lines of dust and whatever filth was naturally attracted to her skin. She used the back of her hand to wipe away the beads of sweat forming on her forehead, which only made the dirt and dustlines smudge into an unholy mess that would have made his mother FAINT. No woman Draco knew would allow their skin to become so, so, so excessively nasty!

"That Sirius Black fellow you won't allow anyone to say bad things about despite his-"

"Oh. _Sirius_..." Tonks frowned, her eyes suddenly becoming clouded with an emotion Draco felt very uncomfortable about. He squirmed in his seated position, managing to stifle the urge to rub at his cheek. He wanted to look away from Tonks, unsettled by his cousin's grief... but he felt his eyes being drawn to it, and a bizarre notion he should stay quiet and pat her hand. The very thought of a Malfoy touching a halfblood's hand in sympathy!

"He ... he reminds me of you a bit, you know." Tonks said thoughtfully, staring at him with distant eyes.

"ME? You'd compare me to a mass-murdering Wizard?" Draco protested, his eyes wide with indignation. He may be a lot of things, but a murderer he was not! A distant voice in the back of his head

"No, he wasn't like that at all," Tonks said quickly with passion, the color leeching from her face as she closed her eyes.

Draco waited for his cousin to continue, but she remained hauntingly still, her body tense.

"Sirius... he was always like an older brother to me." Tonks said finally, opening her eyes and leaning forward to rub at the hardwood floor with her rag. Her very manner struck Draco as both absentminded and distant all the same. "Oh, most times he played the role of the perfect scoundrel, always trying to play the best pranks on everyone, always trying to get away with things no one else dared to try... but he was ALWAYS fun. And then he was gone-- not dead, but locked away in Azkaban. Mum always went on and on about how he was innocent but we all thought she was crazy with grief-- Sirius was her favorite relative, after all, and now that he was gone... she had no one in her family left that would talk to her."

_Including my mum_. Draco though with an inward wince-- he always remembered how odd it was when Nymphadora and Aunt Andromeda would come to the Malfoy Manor for their annual visit. His mother always ignored her sister and looked down at the tip of her nose for the entire affaire, an uneasy silence punctuated by the chit chat between his Aunt and Cousin-- but it was an awkward talk, prone to long uncomfortable silences and scratchy robes in the stifling heat.

At least that's what Draco remembered, anyway.

"When Sirius escaped, mum was ecstatic but I was deeply afraid-- I was in Auror training and was suddenly terrified I would be faced with killing my own flesh and blood in order to do my job. But... Remus here brought Sirius to my mum's and stayed on for a week, and I couldn't bring myself to turn him in. He... I believed him, for reasons I won't get into. It wasn't him who killed those poor muggles, but another nasty fellow named... well, we won't get into him."

Draco wondered if the fellow Tonks was snarling at had ever been welcomed at Malfoy Manor.... and Draco began to feel an odd sense of ... something he couldn't place. Regret? No, it was different, all cold and squirmy like-- a nasty feeling radiating from his belly out to his limbs_. I must be tired_... he thought slowly, trying to ignore the feeling.

"After that, he stayed with me in my flat for a few days. We talked and it was weird having him there-- I didn't believe him guilty, but there was more to the story, more then what he and Remus were telling us. We became really close those few days, before he left without saying a word one night. It was a good six months before I saw him again, when he... moved back here."

"Sirius Black stayed here?!" Draco managed to not squeak, but it was a very difficult thing to do.

Tonks stared at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face. He squirmed again, wanting badly to get out of this cursed house. He began to mentally go over all the horrors he had been made to suffer-- and all because his mum had abandoned him! His skin began to itch as he wondered if his bed had been the criminals-- as if his wrongness would rub off on Draco's skin.

"Finish up this section of the floor Draco-- I... I'm going down to the kitchen." Without a simple goodbye his cousin leaped to her feed and stumbled for the stairs.

Very quickly it dawned on Draco that this was his one chance for freedom. He didn't have to stay in this rotting house-- he could escape while the two conspirators were distracted! He jumped to his feet, shivering slightly.

"That's odd-- I'm not cold." He muttered to himself as he opened the door closest to him. It was empty and had the remains of a bureau in the corner-- and in the corner was a boarded up window. He looked around for something in the room, trying to desperately find something to beat the window out with.

_The duster?__ Hardly-- how about that mirror-- no, glass won't work on wood this thick... OH._ Draco paused and grinned as he spotted an iron rod just laying on the ground. He could imagine it beckoning him, willing him to take it up and destroy the defenseless wood that was all that stood between him and his wonderful escape.

The rod felt unusually cool in his hand as he grasped it and quickly began banging against the wood. After five or six strikes, he frowned and stepped back, wondering what the problem was. He blinked at the wood-- there was no marring marks on it's surface, and he'd been smacking it with all his might.

Anger flowed through his veins as he stared at the wood. "I hate you." He declared, fueling all his hatred onto the board as he raised the rod above his head and smacked it against the board.

_It stood no chance against the superior Malfoy anger_, Draco thought with glee as the wood shattered, the pieces falling down to the ground outside. His anger melted into fear when he looked out and realized how high he was from the ground... and without a broom.

"No matter." Draco said quickly, pulling himself onto the thick window sill. He paused for a moment, not really knowing what he was going to do-- even though he was magical there was no guarantee he'd survive a fall of this height. He looked up and realized the roof was much closer.

"I'll just climb up to the roof, and then climb down a fireplace. I can do that easily." He grinned, feeling excitement over his brilliance.

Carefully he stood on the window sill and reached above him, grasping the thick lip of the roof. "Just... have to pull myself up, that's all." He said, gritting his teeth. It was a tense moment as he hung in midair, but his tired muscles managed to pull him up onto the roof.

Standing, however, was something Draco was not prepared to do. His chest rasped angrily and his body shivered despite the heat. Still, the idea of freedom brought a false strength to his limbs and very slowly he moved to stand.

Indignation began to play in his mind as he looked about the roof._ Imagine, trying to turn him into a simple Houself! As if he wasn't of the purest lines in all of __England__! And then to have the gall to compare him to that murdering muggle-loving disgrace to the Black family!_

"See, no different than riding a broomstick. Probably easier too!" Draco yelled out, ignoring the trembling of anxious horror beginning to nibble on the insides of his gut. The wind had been calm when he began his jaunt but now were threatening to knock him clear off the top of the house.

It was then that Draco realized his wand was safely tucked in his pants pocket. He quickly retrieved his precious wand and allowed himself to gloat, and began waving it around. But the wind chose that moment to pick up and was jerked out of his hand.

The wand floated lazily down to the grounds below, mocking him even as it fell.

"I will not be mocked!" Draco called out, leaning forward to stare at that wand on the ground. But the motion caused his balance to shift and he toppled forward, shrieking in horror.

It was fate that he managed to grab the same windowsill he had climbed out of-- and his rotten luck that the windowsill began to crack under the weight of Draco. It bent down with his weight, allowing him to reach up and wrap his hands completely around the beam to secure his hold.

Draco took a deep breath and forced himself to close his eyes, tightening his grip on the windowsill even farther. "Everything is going to be alright. If I let go I'll only fall three stories-- people can fall from that height and survive! Everything would be mended quickly with a healing spell and, with no witnesses; I can always say I thought I heard something on the roof..."

_And then what?__ Decided to slip out with your wand and your worst clothes and nary a knute in your pocket, expecting to find your way to Malfoy Manor, even though you don't have the faintest idea how to get there without map-- or probably even with a map! Curse Mum for never allowing me to do any adventuring in the summers, for now I've no ability to find my way home again without an adult to hold my ha--_

The sill made a cracking noise that rivaled the shriek Draco couldn't help but let escape. His eyes opened and focused completely on the breaking windowsill, so focused on willing the wood to hold that Draco missed something vital going on in his body. His fingers, already tired from their long hour spent doing more manual work than he had ever accomplished in his entire pampered life, decided that it was apt time to loose their hold on the windowsill and begin to slip off. His eyes snapped towards his fingers but it was too late-- he saw with horror how slippery the wood was, drenched with the sweat from his tired and dirty fingers. He dared not look down at the ground, instead tried very carefully to bring his legs up-- but before he could hook both legs around the bent windowsill, his arms gave out and he fell backwards, screaming.

And so it was fate that young Ginny Weasley was the one to look up at precisely that moment and point to the terrified Slytherin hanging from the bent windowsill from one leg, his hair waving arrogantly in the wind despite the look of pure blubbering terror etched on his bright red face.

_And next time on "New Exciting Ways That Draco's Life Sucks"-- the Weasleys come to visit... EARLY!!!_

-------------------------------------------

**Author's Note**:

I could be coy and say I waited so long to publish chapter four because I was trying to raise expectations, or I could flat out lie and say I completely forgot about the story and wrote chapter four up in five minutes.

The truth of the matter is that from the original outline and basic plot idea, SIG was only going to be a six chaptered story. It was as I neared the last paragraph of the first draft of this chapter that I realized I had not only did I have more plot than I could stuff in the remaining chapters but I had irrationally brought Ginny to the mix two chapters before she was supposed to appear.

As I was displeased with the first effort of chapter four, mostly because of the horrible truth that this summer I lost my Draco!diologue voice. This is horrible for a Draco-centric story, so I semi-wisely took a step back and plotted a bit more, have a slight enjoyable summer, and as soon as I returned to school got back to writing.

This is the third complete re-write of chapter four as well as the sixth or seventh edit all told, so hopefully I accomplished what I wanted for this chapter. So although I feel terribly about not getting chapter four up earlier, please know that if I had, it would have sucked. And yes, that's about normal for my number of re-writes and edits, because I am not a good first draft writer.

Despite my rather embarrassing ability to not deliver new chapters in a timely fashion, I'm holding myself to finishing SIG by the end of January. I am planning a sequel to SIG, but I won't begin that story until February... I think XD.

Also--- originally I wasn't going to include too much Weasley/Draco action, but honestly this stuff just writes itself. Harry is not going to be in SIG until the very end, but I promise he'll have a good cameo!

Also, further notes on the chapter:

1. Mewet Black: The Etymology behind this name is simple-- Mewet comes from the Old French for "silent," which seemed like a nice name for a Mute Black as well as his portrait. Mewet will be back, BTW ;)

2. Malaxis Mainalgos: Malaxis: A genus of orchids with tiny green flowers; Mainalgos: Mainas (crazy woman) -algos (pain). Malaxis Mainalgos is related to Draco off the Malfoy line and MIGHT exist, in a small way, at Malfoy Manor ;). I'm not happy with the way the surname sounds, but I think Malaxis is certainly a Malfoy-esque name XD


End file.
